It's 12:37 am, K was paged around 10 pm to put out a fire at work. Kids are both asleep. I left a pile of dirty dishes in the sink and crashed around 8 pm with a bad tension headache and the beginnings of what can only be a cold, sigh. My nose just started running so it looks like the battle is well underway. I probably could've slept until morning but Moo woke up close to ten, eyes closed shut and mouth mumbling, my cue to start a feed immediately or face the wrath of the CEO (Auntie Spivey's nickname for Moo). This never fails to amuse me. I'm imagining adults doing the same thing. For instance, I would not be as amused if K woke me up from a sound slumber, his hand wrapped around an imaginary cup, and announced, "before I open my eyes, I expect to find a glass of water in my hand...or else." But then these are the years where I live to serve my kids....until they can lift a full garbage bag that is, muahahahahha!
Mad Men, Season 3 starts Sunday....can't wait.
The other day, I was feeding Moo lying on my side and thought this is what it must be like to dance the tango with an overly fresh gnome with two left feet. Gone are the days when he would lie still during his nursings. Now he kicks me in the belly, not so great since his fat toes reach my c-section incision scar.
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